


One Down

by ImagineYourself



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Flirting, Because it isn't spiderpool without copious flirting, Blow Jobs, Dialogue Heavy, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, He gets something better, Humor, M/M, Not as dark as it appears to be, Peter helps, Semi-Public Sex, Suicide Attempt, Temporary Character Death, The boxes are mean, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineYourself/pseuds/ImagineYourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wade's looking for Peter when the boxes start to get too loud. Everything turns out not as bad as Wade thinks it will.<br/><br/>-<br/><br/>What the hell was he supposed to say? <i>Sorry you had to see me splatter my brains out in a stairwell, I just wanted to say hi.</i> Fuck that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Down

**Author's Note:**

> This is an amalgamation/experiment of like 7 things I wanted to do with this pairing so, uh, hope it's alright? This is wildly different from anything I've ever written in my life but I'm really pleased with how it turned out.
> 
> [White]  
> {Yellow}

Peter lived in the Avengers' Tower. Wade knew that. Why he was at the Spider's old apartment [Destroyed.] he didn't know.

{Stop lying. We all know why we're here.}

[It's your fault.]

{It's _your_ fault,} Yellow sang.

“Shut up!”

Wade didn't want to give them the courtesy of even acknowledging them, but he was hard pressed not to, seeing at they had decided to keep talking and talking and _talking_.

[We could make a song.]

{A good song!}

[It's your fault, everything is your fault!]

{You fucked up a perfectly good . . . well, everything!}

[That didn't rhyme.]

{It doesn't have to, it's a song!}

[Songs are supposed to rhyme.]

{Haven't you heard that nineteen flying guy's song? Don't have to rhyme, White!}

[Uh, no?]

“Who fucking cares!” Wade hissed. He was climbing up the fire escape towards the roof, moonlight catching on some broken glass from beer bottles at the top. The merc paced around, ten steps one way, twelve steps back, but who was counting anyway?

{You can't pace away from your problems!}

[Face it, you should have died ages ago.]

{From the cancer, yeah. I almost forgot about that.}

[But _you_ never forget, do you? You know you should have died on that lab table, strapped down like the failure you are.]

Wade growled to himself and hit his forehead a few times, just hard enough to make his ears ring. It wouldn't do him any good, he knew that and the boxes knew that, too. “Fuck off.”

Running, rooftop to rooftop, Wade left the old building behind, bitter that he couldn't leave the boxes there, too.

{You love us.}

[You couldn't live without us.]

“I can't die, either.”

{Well, you're not wrong. I know I could live without White.}

[Well I could live without you!]

{Nuh-uh! Could not!}

[Could too!]

{Could not!}

[Could too!]

Wade saw the tower in the distance, getting closer with each minute he moved towards it. He wasn't really sure what he wanted to do, wasn't sure if he could break in or walk up to the front door and say, _Hello, is Peter home?_

He snorted to himself.

{Could not!}

[Could too!]

Ignoring the boxes, he continued on his way, stopping just once to slice the knife out of some poor guy's hand who was holding it against the throat of a prostitute. He didn't even say a word to either of them, disappearing with a hidden grin at the scream the man let out. Bloodcurdling, it faded as Wade kept going.

{Could not!}

[Could too!]

“Shut up!” he shouted, the tower within reach.

{Tell White to shut up! He's being mean!}

[Yellow is being childish and stupid and I don't want to talk to him anymore.]

{Well I don't want to talk to you.}

[You just did!]

“If you're not going to be nice then shut the fuck up! I'm trying to figure this out!”

{You want to see Peter right?}

[Why would he want to see you?]

{Maybe you should just climb up to his window and tap on the glass until he lets you in.}

[I doubt he'd let you in. He'd probably just close the blinds and tell you to fuck off.]

{Ooh, fuck off! Yeah!}

“ _You_ fuck off! Petey wouldn't do that.”

Wade slipped to the streets, careful to stay hidden. Mostly. It looked like there was a back door into the tower. Well, there were several, but this one was closest and didn't have anyone guarding it.

{Aww, too bad, I wanna see some red.}

[You could string Peter up, when you see him. Our little Spidey tangled in his own web?] White sounded breathless.

Wade shuddered. Whether it was from anticipation or horror, he couldn't tell.

[Don't be like that. You'd love to see your _baby boy_ all tied up.]

{Yeah, with his limbs cut off, dripping dry.}

[Yellow's got the idea.]

The door was locked, unsurprisingly, and with a deadbolt, too. Wade pulled a gun from his thigh, working out where the bolt was on the other side so he'd hit it with just one shot.

{Oh, oh! We could fuck his cute little ass as he bleeds out all over us!}

The shot rang out, too loud in Wade's ears, but that wasn't what made him flinch. He kicked the door in, surprised to find it led to a storeroom of some kind, also without any guards. Stark probably had tech looking out for the tower. Wade was probably already made, but that didn't stop him from trying to find his way toward some stairs. He had no idea what floor Spider-Man was on, but he was sure he'd eventually find it. Hopefully before Stark found him.

[Mm, that ass gets us hard, doesn't it? Can't even count the number of times we've jerked off to it. Baby boy and his pretty cock, makes a nice picture, don't it?]

Yellow all but moaned. {That it does. That it does.} He paused. {Why are we here, again?}

[To get Peter, duh!]

{Right! Little Petey. And then what?}

[Who knows. Maybe we'll kill him. We've dreamed about it, remember? Our hands around his pretty neck while he chokes to death.]

“Nightmares, you mean. Just nightmares,” Wade breathed. He was trying to push the boxes out, but they kept getting louder, and he wasn't any closer to finding a way up.

[Right, of course. Nightmares.]

{Weren't nightmares when we beat the disco stick to them.} Yellow giggled. {Disco stick.}

[Man meat.]

{Holy rod.}

[Web shooter.]

Yellow laughed again. {Web shooter! Little Spidey could make us shoot webs!}

[All over him,] White agreed.

Wade groaned, his dick already starting to take notice of the boxes' banter. He didn't need this.

{We can go back to nagging you, if you like.}

[We're good at nagging.]

{You should listen to us. Petey doesn't want to see you anyway.}

[If he heard the things you think about him? Oh, boy.]

“I don't think them, _you two_ think them.”

{Sooo, it wasn't you who imagined shoving Wade Jr. into Spidey's mouth like he was shoving that taco in last night?}

“Okay, okay, I might have some imagination outside of you two. I wouldn't survive otherwise!” Wade opened a nondescript door, gun still in hand, and pumped his fist into the air when it turned out to be stairs. Up he went, not sure where he was going, but sure he'd get there eventually. The second floor passed him by, then the third.

[You know, Yellow, we never finished that song.]

{What song? Oh, yeah! We should title it “Everyone Hates Wade”, like that show about Raymond something or other, but like, not.}

[You got it. I think we need a new verse.]

{It's all your fault!} Yellow began, off-key. {You're so ugly, nobody would want you.}

[Who could ever love a face like that?]

{You've got that stupid crush on good ol' Petey.}

[Too bad he'd never think you're more than a rat!]

{Ooh, good one!}

[Thank you, thank you. Rhyming is important.]

Wade was passing the sixth floor when the doubts began to really hit him. Maybe the boxes were right this time. They'd been right before.

[We're always right! You should listen to us more.]

{What are we right about?}

[That Peter hates us.]

{Peter definitely hates us.}

[He has no reason not to. I mean, look at this monster we're with, Yellow.]

{I know, what a mess.}

[A face not even a mother could love.]

{Too bad mommy's gone.}

[Probably a good thing, she'd never look at us the same.]

“Shut the fuck up!” Wade cursed, hitting the butt of his gun against his forehead. “Leave me alone!”

{But you're always alone!}

[Not while we're here.]

{Right! He's lucky he's got us.}

“Shut your stupid mouths!”

[Stupid? Yellow, he called us stupid.]

{How rude. I think he's the stupid one. Big and stupid and mean.}

[And ugly.]

{And ugly!]

Wade's knees hit the landing of the tenth floor, holding his head as he panted for breath.

[And nasty.]

{And nasty!}

[And unlovable.]

{And unlovable!}

[You know we're right.]

{Of course we're right.}

[You're nothing.]

{Diddly squat!}

[Diddly.]

{Heh, diddly.}

[We could diddly Peter. Fuck him up real good.]

{And then we'll fuck him!}

White laughed.

Wade held his gun to his skull, shaking his head back and forth. “Stop it!”

[What if we don't stop?]

{Yeah!}

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

[What if we—]

The trigger was pulled without hesitation, born of the many previous times in which Wade had performed this action. He fell onto his face, unconscious of the blood pooling from the hole in his head, pieces of him splattered across the metallic “10” which marked the nearest door. At least the boxes were silent as he died.

 

. . .

 

It was cold when Wade woke with a start. He had enough time to find he was still wearing his Deadpool suit and was laying on a metal slab of some sort before the boxes woke up, too.

[That wasn't nice.]

{I feel woozy.}

Wade glanced around, realizing slowly that he was in some sort of lab, white walls and all. He wasn't strapped down, and nobody else was within sight, so he figured he wasn't in immediate danger. He also noticed that all of his weapons were missing, including—he checked quickly—the switchblade he kept by his crotch. One could never be too careful or too proud when one needed a weapon.

He sat up and rubbed his forehead, groaning lightly. “Can't believe you two made me do that in fucking Stark Tower.”

“You're awake!” a voice said, somewhere behind him.

Wade jumped from the table and looked around. He visibly relaxed when he found Peter. In a white lab coat. Oh no. The kid was too cute and too sciency for his own good and all he was missing was a pair of goggles and—

“Wade? How you feeling?” Peter asked, looking concerned.

“Oh, uh, fine.”

{Not as fine as Petey,} Yellow purred.

“Would you knock it off? I've had enough of you for a lifetime,” Wade muttered under his breath.

Peter was frowning. “Uh, FRIDAY was monitoring you since you entered the building and everyone kind of freaked out when she said you shot yourself.” He laughed nervously and— _fucking rubbed the back of his neck_.

It should be illegal for a guy to be so damn cute.

Wade took a moment to gather his wits about himself and settled back atop the metal after determining it to be some kind of counter space which Peter must have cleared off. For him. Wade could die again.

[Nothing is really stopping you.]

Ignoring White, Wade kicked his feet. “Yeah, sorry about that. Things got a little heated, you know, in here.” He tapped his forehead. “Nothing out of the ordinary, don't you worry.”

If anything, that appeared to make Peter look even more worried. The younger man took a step towards him and leaned a hip against the counter.

“Don't worry, baby boy,” Wade reiterated. “I regenerated just fine.” There was a teasing lilt to his voice and he lowered his tone on purpose, noting the pinkness in Peter's cheeks at the nickname. It wasn't exactly rare, but uncommon to see Spider-Man without his mask, though Wade had come to appreciate each time more and more every time he was blessed with the sight.

{Come, hehe.}

[You know, nobody is around. We could pick up on the fantasy from earlier—]

“So, how's it hanging, Spidey? Anything cool happening?” Wade could have cringed at his own worthless attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Peter seemed almost relieved. “No, nothing really. Bruce and I have been working on this project, but we're not really going anywhere with it so I don't want to tell you about it yet.”

“You have _peaked_ my interest,” Wade told him with a rueful smile. He hopped back to the floor and wandered about the lab.

{That's not the only thing peaked around here.}

“So I finally get to see where you spend your daytime hours,” Wade said conversationally. He took in the space, the modern tech, the cleanliness. He felt dirty just being there.

“Yeah.” Peter chuckled. “It's not much, but it's fun working with Bruce and Tony.”

“Fun?”

“I know, I know. It's just nice to be working somewhere where I get to do my thing and also feel like I'm helping, you know, people like us.” He looked so genuine as he said it that Wade's breath caught momentarily.

“Aww, Petey, that's so sweet,” Wade cooed, stepping closer to pinch Peter's cheeks. He laughed a little manically when Peter swatted him away and snorted.

“Did you wanna get dinner or something tonight? Is that why you came by?” Peter asked, toying with some vials next to a petri dish full of _something_.

Wade frowned. “We were supposed to go patrolling tonight,” he pouted.

“Aw, shit, I completely forgot.” Peter pulled his phone from his pocket to check the clock. “I'm sorry, Pooly, I got so caught up in work.”

“Don't worry about it, Spidey,” Wade told him, though he crossed his arms behind his back and scuffed his toe into the floor.

Peter was grinning with barely contained laughter as he asked, “Rain check?”

“Sure.” Wade brightened at just the kid's smile and glanced around. “I better get going. Any idea where my guns are?”

“Um, I'm not sure. I'll have to ask Tony. I think he had them put away or something so you couldn't kill anyone when you woke up. None of them were expecting . . . that.” Peter frowned again.

“Hey . . .” Wade started.

[Now look what you've done.]

{He's so worried about us, look!}

[He's upset with you.]

{Say something, you idiot!}

[You'll just fuck up again.]

Peter was looking at him with something like expectance and Wade cleared his throat. “It just happens sometimes!” He laughed to try and relieve the tension that filled the space between them but it felt awkward.

What the hell was he supposed to say? S _orry_ _you had to see me_ _splatter my brains out in a stairwell, I just wanted to s_ _ay hi_ _._ Fuck that. Maybe, _The boxes were yelling at me and it got a bit overwhelming._ But then Peter would ask why and he'd have to tell him, _Because they wanted me to fuck you over every available surface while also gruesomely murdering you._

Yeah. None of that would go over well.

{Just tell him how you _feel_.}

[I still feel like killing him. Look at all the ways we could do that in here. All those weird sciency tools.]

“Wade?”

He zoned back in and realized Peter must have been trying to get his attention for at least a minute.

“What's cookin', good lookin'?” he asked with an edge, trying to appear as if he hadn't just contemplated deeply the messages the boxes were trying to send him. Fucking Spidey was a good idea, un-aliving Spidey was a whole other ballpark that kind of made Wade's scaly, scarred skin crawl.

[I thought we weren't scared of anything?]

{We _like_ Spidey, though.}

“Listen, Pool, if you ever want to talk or something, I'm here. I mean, not _here_ , here, but—well you get what I'm saying,” Peter said, stumbling a little over his words.

Jesus, that was cute. “I'm picking up what you're putting down, baby boy,” Wade purred, leaning towards him.

Was he imagining the blush on sweet Petey's cheeks at that, same as earlier? He'd called Peter “baby boy” a thousand times, long after the kid told him repeatedly to stop. It was a good name for his Spider-Man, and Wade couldn't help it if he felt it suited the guy both in and out of fantasies.

“Thanks, Spidey,” Wade finally said aloud. “I'm good at dealing with these two by now.”

Peter had that concerned look on his face again. “I don't want you to have to kill yourself every time it gets to be 'too much',” he said, almost like he really cared.

{Ha. Cared?}

[As if.]

“Pete? Are you—?” He stage gasped. “Are you worried about little old me?”

With a roll of his eyes Peter waved a dismissive hand. “I'm always worried about you, Wade.”

That gave him pause, trying to read into the reaction. Was Peter being serious? No way, he was probably just joking around. They did a lot of joking, the two of them.

{Three!}

[Four?]

They were pals, buddies! Guys joked with each other and didn't really care, so of course Peter was just having a good chuckle.

Wade joined the laugh, out loud, even though Peter wasn't laughing. “Sure, sure, no need to flatter me, sweet cheeks.”

“I'm serious. Just, I don't know, call me or something next time this happens.” Peter appeared exasperated and huffed, watching him.

Wade himself was confused. He cocked his head, frowning behind his mask. Did Pete not understand?

“Thanks, kid, but I gotta get outta here. Miss FRIDAY, could you do me the fantastic favor of pointing me in the direction of Mister Stark?” He turned around and a door opened on the other side of the room, allowing Tony himself to enter, flanked with Black Widow and Falcon, both suited though Tony was not.

“Ah! Just who I was looking for! Thank you, sweet AI.” Wade spread his hands wide in greeting.

The three Avengers all gave him withering looks to which White muttered, [Bastards.]

“Deadpool, I can't say I'm exactly glad to see you alive,” Stark told him,

“I get that a lot.” Wade giggled. “Bullets don't exactly take when it comes to me.”

“Obviously. Peter?”

“Everything is all good. I think I'm gonna head upstairs after Wade leaves, though,” Peter said, looking pointedly at the merc.

“Of course! Where did you put all my babies, Stark?” Wade asked, hands on his hips.

Tony appeared a little disgusted as he jerked his neck to motion behind him. “Somewhere safe. You'll get them back—”

“Great, I'll just be on my way then—”

“You're actually giving this lunatic back his guns?” Falcon interrupted boldly. “He's dangerous!”

“I'm more dangerous without my guns,” Wade said lightly, grinning through his displeasure. “I'd appreciate getting them back.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Peter jumped in. “He's not a lunatic.”

Four sets of eyes stared at him with barely contained shock. Natasha voiced their collective thoughts with, “Really? Because I could swear I just watched footage of a madman shooting himself in the head.”

Peter looked sheepish. “Alright, so he's not all there. Doesn't mean he's a loony that should be locked up.”

“You know his kill count, kid?” Sam asked.

“Of course.” Peter frowned. Wade hadn't even looked away from him, the boxes quiet in his mind as he watched Spider-Man defend his honor.

Oh, he could just fall to the floor and kiss the very ground Peter stood on.

After a prolonged silence, the young scientist said stiffly, “He's not a bad guy.” He gestured at Wade. “And he's right here so you can stop talking about him like he's not.”

{He's so _cute_ when he's standing up for us.}

[Yeah, but why is he doing it?]

{Who cares, he's _perfect_.}

The three Avengers all looked uncomfortable but Peter crossed his arms and stared at them silently for a few moments.

“That. Was. So. Nice! Spidey, I knew you really cared about me!” Wade said to break the quiet. He had his hands framing his own face and was grinning at the now suddenly blushing hero.

“Whatever,” Stark finally sighed. “I don't want to deal with this. Peter, take him to the lab next door and then get him out of the tower. He's your problem tonight.”

Sam made a noise of protest and Natasha looked bored so Peter led the way out, muttering, “He's my problem every night it seems,” as he passed them.

Wade felt it best to ignore that comment in favor of cooing over his table of weapons in the next room, taking his time to strap his katanas back around himself and holster his guns properly. He re-stashed all of his weapons back on his person and turned to find Peter watching him with an odd expression.

“Lead the way, baby boy, I'm a little tired of this place,” Wade said finally.

Peter laughed and waved a hand to beckon Wade to follow as they returned to the other lab, where the Avengers were thankfully no longer loitering. He picked up a bag from a table in the corner and asked Wade, “Still wanna go on patrol?”

“I'm up for anything.”

{Yes we are.}

“Turn around.”

“What?” Wade was confused.

Peter smiled at him with what looked like _fondness?_ “I have to put on my suit. So turn around!” He spun a finger in the air as a motion for Wade to follow.

With a spluttered laugh, Wade did as he was told, albeit reluctantly.

{No, no, no, I wanna see!}

[He's probably getting naked right behind us.]

{I want him to get naked in front of us.}

“Peteeeeey,” Wade drawled. “Can I just have a peek?”

He heard a muffled laugh and the shuffle of cloth. “No! I know your flirty nature and all but—” he paused and Wade heard the snap of spandex, “—you don't really wanna see _this_.”

{Did he just—?}

[I think he did.]

“Oh I know he didn't just—”

{He did!}

“Dear God in Heaven above—”

“What are you muttering about?”

Wade turned around slowly, waiting for Peter to tell him off, but he didn't. Then Wade saw that Peter was turned away and all the pale skin of his back was there for Wade to look at, mouth falling open.

[Don't tell me you're drooling.]

{Look at _that_. If I had a mouth I'd be drooling too.}

[Alright, alright. He's pretty.]

“So pretty,” Wade whispered. Peter already had the bottom of his suit on but appeared to be struggling with getting his arms through the top and Wade could watch him struggle all day and all night.

{And forever and ever and ever and ever . . .}

“You seriously did _not_ just say that I _wouldn't_ want to look at you, did you Petey?”

“What?” Peter asked, distracted.

“Oh, baby boy,” Wade rumbled. “You have no idea.” He took a step forward and noticed the freckles littering Peter's shoulders. He almost moaned.

{I've said it before and I'll say it again a million—a billion times over—but fuck he's perfect. So dreamy.} Yellow did actually moan.

For once, White was silent.

Wade stole one more step before Peter managed to get the top over his head and adjusted it around his slim waist, covering up all that delicate, _touchable_ skin. Whimpering, Wade spun around again, one hand going to cover his mouth behind his mask and the other pushing against his dick, already getting hard.

“Keep it together,” he mumbled to himself, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“You ready to go?” Peter asked just seconds later.

Wade nearly squeaked as he replied, “Yeah! Ready to go!”

{Down on you, baby boy.}

[You said it.]

He turned just as Peter was slipping on his mask and then they were off, ducking through the tower to the outside world.

Peter shouted as he swung himself up to a nearby rooftop, leaving Wade to clamber up himself.

“I'm so fucked,” the merc said as he watched Spider-Man twist through the air.

[Not yet.] White sounded almost happy about it.

 

. . .

 

Their three hour patrol led them to a would be robber at a jewelry store who nearly pissed himself as Peter stuck him to a wall and Wade threatened him ever so sweetly, gun pushed up against the guy's crotch just for the laugh. And laugh they did, after Peter called the police that is.

But, eventually, they tired and Peter's stomach grumbled so they ended up atop an apartment building with Chinese take-out in their hands and masks pushed halfway up. Sirens sounded nearby and Peter went to crouch on the ledge of the building to see, showing the gentle curve of his backside to Wade. Not that the merc minded. Not at all.

Peter pronounced their assistance unnecessary and they returned to chow mein and General Tso's chicken.

“Hey Wade?” Peter started after a while, breaking Wade's concentration on trying to get a single grain of rice between the ends of his chopsticks.

He glanced up. “Yeah?”

“Why'd you really come to the tower earlier? You could've just called.”

Wade shrugged, looking back at that damned piece of rice. “Wanted to check out the digs.”

“You know the Avengers don't like you.”

“That's nothing new,” Wade said and the laugh he let out afterward was mirthless.

[You could just tell him.]

{Maybe now is the right time!}

[You've been waiting.]

{For a handful of that great ass.}

“Well,” Peter said slowly, “next time you want to come over, you shouldn't break in. I think Tony is kind of mad about that.”

“The Iron Princess? Mad? At me? Oh lord, what will I do?”

Peter chuckled and Wade looked over in time to catch the smile on his face, his lips the only part of skin that Wade could really see. The memory of his bare back and shoulders was tauntingly on the edges of his mind's eye. But that was to be considered later, with the help of his trusty hand.

[What's the worst he could do?]

{Renounce our friendship and swear to never talk to us or look at us again.}

[You're right. He'd probably think we're revolting.]

{Truly vomit worthy.}

“I think, Spidey, that even if I said 'pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top' that tin can wouldn't let me within a hundred feet of the building!” Wade gestured broadly, laughing. He spilled some rice on the ground.

“Yeah, you're probably right,” Peter agreed.

{Even he knows.}

“But,” Peter continued, “you could always come by out of costume, no one would recognize you as Deadpool.”

Wade scoffed and shifted to look Peter right in the mask. “No one would recognize me as human, you mean.”

[True.]

Peter's lips twisted into a frown. “It's not that bad—”

“Baby boy, you have no idea how bad it is,” Wade told him, grinning ruefully.

They were looking at each other, eyes meeting despite being hidden. Peter said carefully, “I've seen your face—”

“Parts of it.”

“—and it's not as bad as you think. You're not hideously disfigured.”

“Just disfigured.”

“I didn't say that.”

Wade sighed. “Petey, I can tell what you're getting at and it's not something I really wanna talk about, 'kay?”

“Pool—Wade—listen. You've got to stop beating yourself up about how you look.”

“I've got boxes that do that for me,” Wade said cheerily, tapping his head with the chopsticks still in one hand.

[That's rich, coming from him,] White said, catching Wade's attention.

“Yeah. That's rich coming from you,” Wade echoed.

{He's being hypocritical.}

“You're being hypocritical.”

Peter spluttered. “What are you talking about?”

Wade gestured at him with the chopsticks. “Earlier, you were all, 'Oh great and powerful Wade, don't look at me. I'm so horrible to look at, you don't want to see me'!” he said in a nasally falsetto.

“I do _not_ sound like that,” Peter muttered, obviously trying not to laugh.

“Baby that ain't here or there. You hide that gorgeous body under that suit and you're saying I should show off my fugly face.”

Peter was quiet for a long few seconds before he asked, indignantly, “Did you _look?_ ”

“Of course I looked!” Wade chuckled lowly. “Who wouldn't try and get a glimpse of that perfect ass if they got the chance?”

{Hear, hear!}

“How much did you _see?_ ” Peter sounded actually angry and Wade physically leaned away.

“Don't be like that, baby boy. I didn't see nothing . . . that I didn't like,” he finished with a grin.

Peter stood, take-out on the ground, and stalked away a few steps before turning back and pointing an accusing finger. “That's different than you walking around in anything but your suit. I was just—I was preserving my modesty!”

“Modesty?” Wade tutted. “You don't have to be modest around me.”

[Please, don't be modest around us.]

{Modesty is so overrated.}

“That isn't the point!” Peter sighed and it made Wade feel strange.

“Why are you so mad? You'd have to be brain dead to not see that you're hot as fuck, Spidey.”

{In or out of the spandex.}

[Preferably out.]

{You're absolutely right.}

“Besides,” Wade continued, unfazed by the boxes, “been dreaming about what's under all that for a long time, sweetheart.”

That appeared to stop Peter short. Wade patiently waited, eating a few more bites of rice and appreciating the slight gape to Peter's mouth. He still sat on the ground, Peter standing over him and looking tall like he never did when they stood next to each other. It made Wade think of Peter on top of him, looking big, surrounding him on all sides—

{Including insides.}

Wade choked on a laugh at the musing way Yellow said it. Every once in a while, that sounded nice. Usually, he just thought about Peter up against a wall or bent over a table or on his knees and _wow_ Wade really needed to stop thinking about sex because Wade Jr. was starting to enter the party and Peter still hadn't spoken.

“You're serious?” Peter finally said, bringing Wade's attention back to him. Or rather, back to him on the roof with his shoulders a little slumped and his mouth pouting prettily and not the Peter in Wade's mind.

“About?”

Peter's voice cracked as he mumbled, “Dreaming about me?”

Fuck, that was precious. Wade got to his feet, rice safely set to the side to be finished later. “You think I'd lie?” he asked, very softly.

Peter swallowed audibly and Wade closed in on him, three steps forward until they were nearly close enough to touch.

{He does.}

[Probably expects it.]

{But our boy is so, so wrong.}

[This time, at least.]

Wade's lips were stretched in a smile that, if his eyes had been showing, would have seemed a hell of a lot more predatory. “Am I so hard to trust?”

“That's not—I didn't—” Peter stuttered. He lifted his hands and Wade knew that it would take barely a flick of the kid's wrist to send him stumbling away. So, Peter was letting him lean closer.

“Come on, baby boy, don't tell me you've never thought of knocking boots with this sexy bod.”

Peter seemed to relax just slightly, like he thought Wade was joking. “You're fucking with me.”

[Whoop, there it is.]

{Oh no he didn't.}

Wade's hands shot out and gripped onto Peter's waist, tugging on him to close those last inches between their bodies. He heard the hero gasp as their hips came into contact, the thick line of Wade Jr. half-hard against Peter's thigh and Wade's lips teasingly close to his ear.

“I'd rather just be fucking you,” Wade whispered, relishing in the choked noise Peter made.

Stock still in his arms, Peter just breathed. For a moment, Wade thought he might have gone too far and he held himself in check even though he desperately wanted to rut against Peter and whisper to him every dirty thought he'd ever entertained.

{That would take _hours_.}

[He might not like all of it.]

{Maybe he will. Maybe he'll think it's hot.}

White just laughed darkly and there was no doubt that the box would be rolling his eyes if he had any.

Then, slowly, Peter rested his hands on Wade's shoulders. He babbled, “I never thought—I mean,” he paused to let out a breathy laugh. “Just look at me. How?”

“Oh, I've been looking,” Wade told him, dipping his head so that his lips rested against Peter's jaw. “And I _like_ what I see.”

“Wade,” Peter breathed, like his name was a boon and a warning all at once. His fingers tightened and Wade's answered by holding a little tighter to him. “Are you . . ? I mean, is this—are we really . . ?”

Wade shut him up with a kiss and Yellow screamed in delight in his head. White made no noise but there was this feeling of sick pleasure coming from both of them. Or maybe that was all Wade. A bout of blood rushed to his cock when Peter made this precious gasping sound and tilted his head.

“Is this okay?” Wade made himself ask, resting their foreheads together so they were still close but their lips no longer touched.

{Don't ask him, just fucking kiss him!}

[Take what we want. We've been wanting him for so long.]

{Stop waiting and fuck him already!}

Peter panted out a breath or two and Wade could feel the air moving. “ _Fuck_ yes, it's okay. More than okay. Like, way more—”

He was cut off again as Wade kissed him, hungry and wanting. His hands slid around to Peter's back and he ached to feel skin under his bare fingers but just held the young man's body tighter against him. Peter's kisses became wet when he opened his mouth and tentatively prodded at Wade's tongue with his own. Wade could have moaned but he settled for squeezing Peter for a moment and slipping one hand lower, over one of those wonderful, supple ass cheeks.

Peter responded by whining and rolling his hips, making Wade break the kiss to pant against a pale cheek and try to regain some semblance of control. He was fully hard in his suit, almost trembling, and he was sure Peter could feel it.

“Wade?” The sound of his name, breathlessly whispered into his ear, was something Wade hadn't heard in a long time. He shuddered. “I want to—can we—?”

“What do you want, baby boy?” Wade asked, fingers finding their way to the spaces between Peter's ribs.

Peter kissed him again, sloppily, and bit Wade's bottom lip. “Can you—will you blow me?”

“Aw, _fuck_ ,” Wade moaned, his dick jumping. “ _Fuck_ yes, anything you want, baby.”

“I never thought—” Peter stopped to whimper when Wade dropped his head and mouthed at his pulse point under his jaw. “I've wanted you for so long,” he managed to pant, his hands moving to grab at Wade's muscular arms.

“Yeah?” Wade asked. He pushed against Peter, separating them enough to get him to step back. One, two, three, four, Peter's back hit a wall and Wade crowded him against it.

“Yeah,” Peter confirmed.

Wade could have laughed but he was busy digging his teeth into the space just under Peter's earlobe. There wasn't enough of the man's skin showing for Wade's taste. He wanted him naked, wanted to taste and touch and _mark_ all of him. All of that pale, freckled glory. _His_.

[Ours.]

{Everything.}

Peter gasped and then whispered, “Never thought you'd want me. Never thought that flirting would go anywhere.”

Wade exhaled shakily and lifted his head to steal a dirty, filthy, wet kiss. “Never thought you'd let me do this. Glad all that effort hasn't gone to waste. Every word's been true, Petey.”

“Wade, shit,” Peter whimpered, his hips bucking against where Wade had started slowly rubbing against him. Any friction was good friction just then. “Call me baby boy. _Please_.”

A groan left Wade's throat before he said, voice low and husky, “Love it when you beg, _baby boy_. Gonna make you feel so good. You want that, baby boy?”

“Yes, please, fuck.”

Wade laughed and left him with a bruising kiss before nipping at his ear and sliding down to his knees. Peter's hands were back on his shoulders and Wade slid his own gloved fingers under the edge of Peter's top before hooking on his pants and tugging them down slowly. Pale, bony hips were revealed and Wade glanced up to see Peter's face angled down at him. He couldn't be sure if Peter was actually watching or not, the mask didn't allow that, but he could hope.

{He should see us.}

[For everything we are.]

{Like we want to see him.}

“No,” Wade whispered to the boxes, thumbs digging into the muscle of Peter's thighs.

“Wade?” the hero questioned, one hand caressing the side of his face. “If you're not—”

He smiled up at Peter. “Baby, I want this more than anything.” With that, he pulled the spandex down to the midpoint of Peter's thighs, revealing his pink and straining dick to Wade's hungry eyes. Peter's fingers moved along Wade's scarred jaw but all Wade could think was that he needed this perfect specimen in his mouth right fucking _now_.

So he wrapped one hand around the base and dived right in, tongue sure against the pretty mushroom head of Peter's cock. A loud, long moan met his ears and fingers dug into his flesh as Peter twitched and bucked.

“You like this, Spidey? Like your cock in my mouth? Wanna come on my tongue, baby boy?” Wade asked, grinning before sucking him into his mouth, tongue against the silky flesh. He tasted salty and bitter like sweat and come and Wade hummed with his mouth full.

Peter gasped, loudly. “Fuck yes. Shit, _Wade_ ,” he breathed.

Like it was a blessing, sent to him from the lips of the purest angel, Wade went to town. He took Peter all the way down, until his nose was buried in soft hair and he pulled off again almost completely before repeating the action. His fingers were sure to be leaving bruises along Peter's bared hips, moving in stutters under Wade's grip. Little breathy pants and moans were like filthy little prayers inside Wade's head and even the boxes were listening to the, frankly, disturbingly hot noises.

Better than any porn, that was for sure.

Wade felt hot and horny and he loved the weight and taste and feel of Peter on his tongue but _fuck_ he wanted more. One of his hands slid into his suit and rubbed slowly at his own cock, movement limited.

“Wade!” Peter cried, both of his hands cupping the back of Wade's head and ushering him to move faster.

Amused, Wade allowed the pace change, barely pausing to breathe and letting Peter fuck his face because this was likely the only time this would happen and Wade was fucked if he wasn't going to give Peter every little thing he wanted. Ignoring the part of himself that recognized this coupling as a terrible idea, Wade stroked himself and ran his other hand up Peter's body then around to cup his tight butt, feeling the muscles there twitching irregularly.

“Fuck, Wade, I'm close,” Peter panted.

Wade pulled off of him, pleased with Peter's whine, and said, “Come on, baby boy. Wanna taste you, want you to come your fucking brains out.”

There was another moan and Wade licked at the head of Peter's cock, suckling on it and tonguing at the veins on the underside. He had no reservations when it came to his partner's pleasure and he squeezed himself as he took Peter all the way to the back of his throat, swallowing and humming.

Peter cried out and then went silent, his whole body locking up as he held Wade's face tight against him while he came. The taste of him was so perfectly heady that all Wade wanted to do was swallow it up and Peter gave him plenty to taste.

One last whimper left Peter's lips before Wade was coming into his suit, gloved hand tight around himself and hips grating the air.

With gentle hands, Peter guided Wade's mouth from his cock and they looked at each other, both breathing heavily. Wade took his sticky hand from his pants and wiped it against his own thigh. He didn't know what to do, stuck between sitting there forever and scrambling away, sure that Peter wouldn't want to touch him.

As it was, he was shocked into stillness when Peter's fingers fit under the edge of Wade's mask and pulled it up quickly, not giving any time for Wade to resist.

Peter made no noise. Didn't react to Wade's scars in any way except to drop the mask and cradle Wade's head gently.

[Did he—?]

{Are we—?}

[What. The. Fuck.]

“Pete . . .” Wade whispered, unsure.

“C'mere,” was all Peter replied, tugging to get him to stand on shaky legs and tilting his head to kiss him, licking his own taste from Wade's mouth.

It was so unexpected that Wade took a few moments to gather enough of himself to kiss back, grabbing onto Peter's hips and pushing their bodies together.

“That's it,” Peter urged in a whisper against the corner of Wade's lips.

{He's—?}

[Fuck.]

{I knew we picked a good one.}

“Pete?” Wade asked, though he didn't know what he was asking.

“You're not ugly,” Peter told him and he'd never told Wade he was a mind reader as well as a goddamned spider.

“Oh,” Wade said stupidly. He didn't say anything else because Peter was kissing him again, slow and good and oh _shit_ when had Wade actually fallen for this amazing prize? He'd only ever wanted sex, some companionship, but . . . this?

“Stop over thinking it,” Peter said. He really needed to tell people that he could read minds because this was crazy!

{You're crazy.}

[You know that's true.]

{Is Spidey crazy, too?}

[Maybe?]

“Probably not, but now I don't know,” Wade told them. Peter pulled away and looked at him. He smiled sheepishly. “The boxes,” he said by way of answer to the unspoken question. Peter, thankfully, just seemed to accept it.

Like he suddenly realized he still had his pants around his legs, Peter hastily took his hands back and managed to put his suit back together. Wade hoped he was blushing because damn he was cute when he blushed and Wade needed to know so bad that he pushed Peter's mask up until he could drop it to the ground beside his own.

You _are_ blushing!” he exclaimed happily.

Peter smiled but ducked his head like he was embarrassed.

[We are so gone.]

{Yeah but look at him.}

And Wade was looking, fingers touching the younger man's pink cheeks. “You're right, Yellow.”

Peter looked back at him. “What's he right about?”

{Yeah, what am I right about? You never say I'm right about anything.}

[Usually you're not.]

“He's perfect,” Wade answered them both, grinning.

Peter bit his lip and Wade chuckled, leaning in to kiss him again. “We're gonna do this again right?” Peter asked after another stolen kiss.

Wade's hands slid around Peter's body, holding him tight and smiled against his pale neck. “Baby boy, you have no idea how many more times we're gonna do this and so many other things, too.”

“How many other things?” Peter asked, almost in a whisper.

Wade pulled away to look him in the eye, awestruck at the playful gaze that met him. Peter's lips were curved up mischievously. With a sigh of barely restrained relief and amusement, Wade told him, “Too many to count.”

Peter looked excited at the prospect and Wade couldn't help but kiss him again, tasting the inside of his mouth like it held all the answers. It probably did.

_Perfect._


End file.
